


Let It (Amor Fati)

by gloryvox



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Choking, Control, Drama, Exhibitionism, M/M, Male Friendship, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rimming, Roughness, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloryvox/pseuds/gloryvox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan and Dorian have only just met when Dorian offers to help him be someone else entirely. Set in Dorian’s great hall, this story picks up after the explosive ending to Penny Dreadful S1, E4 (Demimonde). This gets very NSFW, so be forewarned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers. Not sure of this is the right way to do this, but if anyone is interested in taking a beta read through this I'd love to do the same for one of your works as well. I've been itching to improve this work and write some follow up stories, and would love any and all feedback. Thanks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get reacquainted with Dorian and Ethan's inner worlds and relive their first night together.

Confidence is the first thing a stranger might notice about Ethan. He plays the role of rugged westerner; always ready to defend and protect. His body serves him well, able to divest a man from his life when needed. Responsible for his most closely held secrets and forces, he is generally careful to keep his beast in check but this evening he is losing control to it, and will soon have none to speak of. He is crawling out of his skin.

He listens to others so actively that most are blind to the fact that he rarely divulges about himself. Behind his shining eyes there is always that penitent undercurrent of self-hate for the lives he has destroyed. Incapable of half-measures he answers emphatically and with extra care to reassure. Either he is safe in his lane as the affable and dangerous gunman or fully abandoned to the truths within him. There aren’t many who can survive when he shares the latter, and he finds himself hoping his new friend is stronger than he thinks. 

His mind is racing to make sense of things here in his friend Dorian’s great hall, but a different master is taking over, the one stoking the warmth inside him. Walking away with his back to his host, Ethan offers up the first real vulnerability between the two of them by letting a story about the Anasazi melt out of his mouth in gravelly tones. The elemental remembrances inscribed in the cliffs have an enduring honesty that is reflected in the animals and celestial bodies that are depicted in the rock. Dorian provokes him by challenging the honesty of Art as opposed to Music, and now their gaze connects more openly, as Ethan turns to face him. Dorian plays some Wagner, and Ethan wonders how the _Liebestod_ can be more honest than the Ancient Ones? It’s true that notes are fleeting, only existing in that moment of pure sensation, but music and art inspire similar catharsis, a beautiful trauma that lingers long after first experience. Felt so deeply over and over, both can sideline you from the world you inhabit, bringing you right back to that moment when your senses were first fully engaged in receiving the blessed fruits of creativity. Each subsequent remembrance enriching the original with new twists and turns added for the pleasure of the beholder.

Ethan struggles to set aside the weight of his sins and allow this escape to wash over him, but then he lets the soaring music quicken his pulse and mix in his veins with the anise and bitterness of the absinthe. He can hear his own blood and breath inside his head as he stands there. Each inhale expands his chest, bares more of his neck, pushes his shoulders back and out against the layers of his clothing. All he can manage is this simple task of breathing; each inhale is a beat that raises his chin higher, makes his eyes sting a little more, and his chest burn like oxygen is in short supply. His mind still thinks it’s trying to compose itself but in truth what’s taking over demands more of that singular intoxication coming from Dorian, who stands there openly regarding him while he talks about Wagner and heartache and dead lovers. Dorian smirks to himself as Ethan glows with the pleasant shock of how unsuccessfully their polite cultural conversation is masking his descent from mind into body, each and every humming nerve and muscle shining clearly on his face and skin. 

How can someone so unknown drive such a need in him? He met Dorian just a few hours ago, when the slighter man offered to help him forget himself in the dark streets of London. To be fair to Dorian, even taller men seem less-than in comparison to Ethan whose enviable height conveys power and demands regard even from a distance. His shoulders, back, and arms have that wonderful arch to them from constant use – corrupting if you look a moment too long, which no one ever turns down the chance to do. Rage and pain simmer beneath the surface of his skin, his eyes consume and paralyze. There is nowhere to hide when you are his focus. He commands in every way.

Dorian hosts fewer inches on his frame and unlike Ethan is not built for gritty, tactical killing but more suited to poison and a languid kind of hedonism. As soon as his eyes first snared Ethan (and those shoulders) he felt compelled to brush against such a creature and tease it out. Since then, Dorian has played the role of enabler all evening. Perfect subservient facilitator, good-natured troublemaker, he exists now only to make Ethan’s dam break at any cost. Dorian lives for these moments, when lines are crossed and his immortality gets tested. Bored with living, he exists to construct his next earthquake.

No obstacles can stand in the way of new experience for Dorian, and tonight’s efforts are paying off. Ethan has just shattered, and is wordlessly bounding at him from across the room. Instinct is Ethan’s master now and his thighs compel him across the floor, each strong stride quickly conquering the space between him and this magnetizing man across the room. Never breaking eye contact, he is entirely focused on relieving a rage to destroy. He must consume Dorian. He must become him. Shaking all over, Ethan grabs Dorian’s throat from a pace and a half away, trying hard to regain some measure of that ever-present control he so carefully cultivates. Dorian’s eyes stare at the monster he’s created, waiting to find out the delicious specifics of his impending destruction.

Still gripping Dorian’s throat, Ethan takes a quick breath in through his teeth and yanks Dorian’s mouth towards his own with both hands. His eyes are wet as he savors the taste of Dorian’s soft lips and his seductive scent, manipulative as any Orchid. Theirs will be a meal full of anger and self-destruction. They are crashing against each other, tectonic plates of bone, muscle, skin exposed now that they have removed the shirts that separate them. Dorian continues his expert subservient seduction and, following the orders of Ethan’s piercing glare, lightly kicks off his shoes and steps out of what remains of his clothes. Dorian is now standing there, self-possessed and beautiful.

Even though they have been hurtling towards this very moment, somehow _this_ is what stuns Ethan. Seeing Dorian hard and on display is too much for him to take. Ethan’s senses seem to go offline. He hears his own breathing again and has the feeling of existing solely in his skin without the ability to direct his body’s movements. The pause gives Dorian the advantage he expected and he circles Ethan to slowly melt his bare chest into to Ethan’s back. Leaning in to Ethan’s neck he tucks some of that long dark hair behind an excruciatingly beautiful ear, and breathing on it from behind Dorian mouths the only thing close to a request for permission he will make of Ethan all evening. In fact it takes the form of an order.

“My tongue will take you apart tonight.”

Ethan’s senses fully snap back into his body as he takes a deep breath in. His head tilts back onto Dorian’s shoulder, and he whispers hoarsely, mostly to himself,

“Let it.”


	2. Overcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barriers start to crumble and Ethan gives in to Dorian’s attention. Escalating levels of NSFW.

With those two words of permission Dorian kneels into the back of Ethan’s knees, deftly bringing both men to the ground. Unaccustomed to relinquishing the higher ground Ethan now finds himself on his hands and knees pinned there by Dorian and his own desire, waiting impatiently for the removal of the last remaining clothes that separate him from complete exposure. As he pulls Ethan’s pants down to the floor, Dorian has to admit that even after centuries spent appreciating beautiful creatures, he finds Ethan extraordinary. Every curve and muscle inspires consummation; every sound he makes is a masterpiece.

Wanting to draw out this particular earthquake, Dorian knows his current beauty deserves pride of place, a pedestal where Ethan can be celebrated, worshipped and coveted. Dorian will start him on the _chaise_ with its sumptuous fabric and elegant frame. Like the structure behind the paintings that line his walls with form and gesture, the _chaise_ is Dorian’s most basic canvas. A baseline against which he poses each new body to better remember them in sequence, hoping against hope that the mental souvenirs remain accessible to him time and again, without fading like the cruel phantasm of music. 

Dorian finds the pocket watch from Ethan’s discarded vest and places it in the kneeling man’s mouth, closing his lips on the intricate chain that leads from it to Dorian’s hand. Thus tethered, Dorian walks the man towards his pedestal, and Ethan’s skin blooms pink with this newest obeisance. The flush of blood also creates a new heaviness between his legs as he takes Dorian’s lead, stalking across the floor on hands and knees. Now that Ethan is closer to his canvas, Dorian removes the watch and with a stern glance directs Ethan to lounge outstretched for him. On the _chaise_ , Ethan obediently lifts his left arm up and open, resting it along the back of the antique while his right arm hangs comfortably down. He sets his shoulders back, baring his chest and ribs, and resets his hips with a subtle thrust upward toward Dorian.

It would be easy for Dorian to let Ethan take him, but there will be a time and place for that. Dorian closes Ethan’s eyes and runs his palm along the face of his new possession. He starts by leaning over and pushing Ethan’s hair behind his ear again, exposing that vulnerable passageway to the senses. Continuing on to the underside of his jawline, he presses Ethan’s beard beneath his fingertips and feels the bone beneath move as Ethan clenches his teeth together in frustration. Dorian lingers down the strong pulse of his neck before falling to his knees to explore the rise of Ethan’s chest at eye level. This is a torso to inspire great sculpture and in the flesh it is the essence of welcome. Ethan is distinctly alive as his hair bristles under Dorian’s touch. That hair is what Dorian follows down Ethan’s stomach now and he feels it get coarser as the skin that anchors it gets warmer.

Ethan raises his hips to create pressure against Dorian’s touch, but Dorian will not allow it and instantly removes his hand from Ethan’s body. Ethan learns the lesson quickly, and from now on will use his considerable strength to stay motionless or else risk losing Dorian’s attentions. He pushes himself back down with difficulty and waits for Dorian’s exploration to begin anew. If Ethan had waited just another moment, he would have felt Dorian grip him between his legs to survey the sheer weight and width of him. But now, as if to erase the interruption and bring the lesson home, Dorian effortlessly flips Ethan over and turns him so he is kneeling upright with his chest against the back of the furniture that supports him. Dorian’s strength is so surprising that it shatters Ethan’s long-held certainty in his physical superiority over other men. He is humbled by Dorian’s push to spread his legs apart, so he grips the sofa tighter and swallows his urge to engage. Dorian’s tongue flicks at the back of Ethan’s ankles, starting to make good on the promise to take him apart. He travels the length of Ethan’s calves to the back of his knees bite by bite, and licks up the back of those beautiful thighs until he reaches the crease where they end. Dorian’s face is perfectly aligned with Ethan’s ass now, and he uses both hands to pull Ethan apart, letting the wetness and warmth of his mouth tease Ethan beyond anything he’s imagined having to endure without much quicker relief. But endure he does, because Dorian has set his mind to making him beg to be fucked and Ethan is so overcome with want that he is powerless to do anything but receive Dorian – all wetness and insistence. He learned that he must not reciprocate, but he can’t stop the appropriately blasphemous curse that rumbles up from the depths of his throat, filtered through that endearing American West accent of his. He spits the words out towards the ceiling, 

“God damn that feels good.”

Dorian grinds his tongue deeper into Ethan, intent on continuing the first stage of Ethan’s preparation for the evening. Dorian starts a deep humming that surprisingly relaxes and electrifies Ethan at the same time. As Ethan’s tension relaxes around Dorian’s tongue he can tell that he is fully under his control, ready to serve at the pleasure of his whims.  

It’s then that a bright flash fills the room. Ethan tenses in anticipation of danger, but Dorian’s tongue quickly reassures him that it is not his job to be concerned. His only job is to relax into the moment and let Dorian take complete control. It’s a testament to Dorian’s skill that our hunter was so distracted that he neglected to notice when the photographer entered the room. Ethan is no longer capable of shame or guilt; the pleasure and escape is so great he will submit to anything in order to ensure it continues. This is by design of course. Dorian needs Ethan to be this compliant before his other guests arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, these guys inspire NSFW thoughts and I rolled with it.


	3. Remain Nameless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no Ethan Chandler here, something purely selfless remains. Serious explicitness follows.

“God Damn!” 

The curse bounces back into his ears before he realizes he’s the one that spit it out. He usually says these words out of everyday frustration but Dorian’s attentions have given them a filthy bite, elevated them to exultation. Ethan doesn’t exist outside this very time and place. He is just a vessel. Somewhere deep in his spine he knows that he can protect myself and can break this spell with just a word but he has no interest in being himself again. Not yet. Not soon. Not when this feels so good. Dorian promised to help him shed that self and he can’t believe the luck that brought him to this moment. He is protective of this. Superstitious about upsetting whatever magic this is that keeps Dorian interested in his pleasure. Earlier, before he realized what he could lose, he was overcome with the pull of hands on skin. Dorian is taking his time and savoring each moment, but how strong is his composure? Surely he also savors competition. Ethan will do everything, anything, not to have that touch taken from him again. He cannot stand to have this pleasure cease even as he’s sure that the culminations will be many and splendid. There is no Ethan Chandler here. Something purely selfless remains.

The flashbulb brings Ethan back down to earth. He had been floating above this exquisite tableau again separate from his body. If he’s not careful Dorian will make him come just like this, humming and lapping at his ass while some stranger takes photographs. It takes all his concentration not to come, and to let Dorian guide him to the edge and back. He concentrates on what’s being done to him with that tongue, those hands. Dorian will protect him, and ultimately bring him peace, but above all he will satisfy his own needs first and right now he needs to worship Ethan and put him on display. As Dorian stands, he licks a long wet stripe up Ethan’s back and pins him down to the _chaise_ with a grip on back of his neck. Ethan pushes his neck back against Dorian’s hand to test the rules, and Dorian responds with a punishing shove that makes Ethan understand that he must not move a muscle, but remain there open and wet until allowed to do otherwise. He notices that somehow in his ecstasy the music changed and he can hear the sounds of hushed social commerce. Glasses clinking, dramatic music is being played live, and is he hearing the open and close of the heavy door as people are introduced to the room. He’s racks his mind to try to figure out how long they have had company in the room. His senses tell him that there are only a (select?) few actually in the room with them now, compared to the swell of people that seem to have gathered in the outer halls, laughing and talking. What the fuck is going on?

As if he can tell that Ethan’s mind has started racing again Dorian appears, facing Ethan, the back of the _chaise longue,_ and the rest of the room. Still kneeling on the cushions, Ethan’s only view is Dorian, which makes him even more painfully aware that the rest of the room stretches out behind him – unavailable to his field of vision.

“Each of these people has a gift, and they will share it with you Ethan. They are trusted. I will be with you throughout, standing here facing you, watching you, ensuring you are treated with the deference that full subservience deserves. Tap my hip and everything will stop. Understand?”

“Yes.” Is all Ethan can whisper. 

There is only a second of warning as Ethan can see Dorian turn his attention to the room and with a smile use his eyes to welcome the first person to join them. Dorian locks into Ethan’s gaze now, holding a safe space between them, while their first visitor starts to pour something warm and relaxing down Ethan’s back. Hands push and pull the liquid over Ethan’s skin, onto his ass and between his legs. Fingers knead his back while a new face picks up where Dorian left off. Ethan surrenders quickly into the sensation and is rewarded with a finger pushed in alongside the tongue that’s already there. Dorian sees Ethan’s eyelids close with the pleasure of it and he uses this moment to signal a new set of fingers to push in. These fingers seem stronger, courser compared to the first. The hands of this guest are well used, not a stranger to hard labor. Ethan can feel callouses and confidence while two new fingers push inside now, continuing to spread him apart. Finding some give to Ethan’s skin, a third finger joins them. Ethan just starts to get used to the fuller feeling when all the fingers start pulsing in and out, expanding with each insertion. He feels the sting and relief, over and over, and hears Dorian say to him.

“Breathe for me. Breathe.”  

Ethan closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and feels a third person push a plug into him to preserve all the good work the fingers have been doing. Ethan arches his back into this new sensation and finds that he is faced with Dorian’s cock. Dorian grabs himself in one hand and the hair at the back of Ethan’s head with the other. Dorian starts fucking Ethan’s mouth, not sparing the back of his throat. Ethan’s not sure he can take it all. He wants to make this so good for Dorian so he sucks and relaxes his throat and tries not to gag but Dorian is too big and his reflexes kick in and his throat spasms around Dorian’s width with an involuntary rejection. Ethan darts his attention to Dorian’s face, looking for signs of disappointment or disapproval, but instead he hears Dorian make the filthiest sound. Dorian’s composure slipped, and now Ethan knows there is something about choking that burns away Dorian’s control. Dorian slows his pace and returns to using Ethan’s mouth as a steady fuck, keeping him hard and wanting, but still able to keep control of the room. Just as Ethan registers the change of pace, a fourth person removes the existing plug and drizzles more liquid onto his ass in the space the plug left behind. At first it feels to Ethan like the same plug has been pushed back in. But no, this one feels different, the same size but heavier, like it has something hanging from it.  He can feel the weight of it pulling at the plug inside his ass as his fourth guest runs something along the inside of his thigh. Best he can tell, there is a tube leading from the plug that ends in a bulb. The hand pumps the bulb twice and with a barely controlled flinch Ethan feels his ass stretch even wider. He remembers to breathe into the pain and lets Dorian resume a bruising pace against the back of his throat while the plug keeps expanding inside him. Dorian sees Ethan’s eyes well up with stinging tears and that’s what makes Dorian risk it all. He gathers himself, somehow pulling out of Ethan’s beautiful mouth and rewarding it with a deep kiss. He can taste what he’s been leaking into Ethan and that makes him want to leave everything he has deep in that sensitive throat of his. Dorian disappears into the room leaving Ethan to stare at the wall instead.


	4. Long Snake Moan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More guests join the party. Dorian finally gives in. Still NSFW.

Ethan’s senses are acutely alert now even while they are starting to blend together. The heavy door to the room opens and he can feel the sound of it in the ring of skin that’s stretched around the plug that still fills his ass, he can taste each adrenalized heartbeat on his tongue. Sounds of enjoyment drift into the room as people file in to witness Dorian’s latest creation. Some leave the house entirely, some huddle in safe proximity to the door, but the more jaded and adventurous get as close as they can, an awestruck hush settling over them as they shift in their clothes and start to vibrate with anticipation. It seems to Ethan that there must be a hundred people in the room, and his chest fills with competition and a feeling of pride. He will be so good that Dorian will have difficulty lasting for any length of time. Ethan will kneel there, ass up for Dorian in this room full of people, confident in his athlete’s body that is tense with his own postponed pleasure.

Guests start to test each other out, turned on by the display; a kiss on someone’s neck here, an arm around a waist. Ethan can hear the subdued sounds of people in the room getting turned on, and he prays that Dorian comes back to him soon. He needs to be anchored to Dorian again. But he is shockingly unmoored all of a sudden as someone removes the plug and ads new slip in its place. It’s Dorian! 

“You have the strength and agency to end this at any time. Agreed?”

“Yes,” Ethan says.

“If you stay you do not speak. You do not come. Not until I let you. Understand?”

“Yes”

“Do you want to stay?”

“Yes”

“Tell me you want to stay.” Dorian calmly demands.

“Please Dorian, I need to stay. I need more. I need to feel you inside me. I will make it good for you. I’ll be anything for you. I just need to feel you come inside me. Please. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good for you.”

As Ethan begs for attention he can feel Dorian line up behind him and start to fuck him from behind.

“Quiet now.” Dorian says, not uncaringly.

Dorian starts to push into Ethan with excruciating slowness. Some mistake this for gentleness, but Ethan knows it for the torture it’s meant to be. Dorian is huge and straining against Ethan’s opening, but he’s going slowly to tease and frustrate, not to spare Ethan pain. Ethan pushes back and starts riding at Dorian’s pace. It feels so fucking good that Ethan doesn’t realize that he’s trying to reach for his own cock. Just as Ethan starts to tighten his grip Dorian hooks the offending arm behind Ethan’s back and starts using it for leverage to fuck him harder.

Dorian is a bit breathless now and leaning in he grips the front of Ethan’s throat, hard. Breathing into Ethan’s ear he says sternly, “Speak to me.”

Ethan can’t touch himself but he can match Dorian’s rhythm and make the hungriest moans the room has ever heard. Dorian continues to whisper into Ethan’s ear intimate things only the two of them can hear but Ethan lets the room know how good Dorian’s dick feels, how much more he wants of it, how he never wants this to stop. Hearing this man’s pleasure vaults Dorian to the edge of coming as he swings one hand around to bring Ethan to orgasm just as he explodes inside him. The two men continue to rock against each other, riding the aftershocks until they collapse into a neatly fitted pile of limbs. The guests take their leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Readers. If you're kind enough to leave comments with constructive feedback, I'll do my best to take them into account. This is my first time posting to AO3 and I'm still learning about how all this works. 
> 
> A brief note on chapter names:  
> Chapters are titled after songs I've been listening to while I write. Here are the musicians and links to the songs in case anyone is interested. 
> 
> Chapter 01 – "Come to Me" by Mark Lanegan (https://youtu.be/C1x5Q-9oN4I).
> 
> Chapter 02 – "Overcome" by Tricky (https://youtu.be/ViHiOopNTlc).
> 
> Chapter 03 – "Remain Nameless" by Florence + The Machine (https://youtu.be/5w83Fgv347Q).
> 
> Chapter 04 – "Long Snake Moan" by PJ Harvey (https://youtu.be/F7R5UtMjIhQ).


End file.
